When he went downstairs, he saw that rain was slanting across the open doorway leading to the yard, where it fell with a splatter on the paving-stones. He caught a glimpse of a copse of larch-trees on the hillside and heard the crying of their blown branches. Against the door-post, with a cold pipe in his mouth, Rutherford was lounging, and his wife sat on the fender with the light of the fire brightening her hair. Edward Webb stood for an instant before they saw him, and made him welcome. "Why, the stairs didn't creak!" said Clara. "That was what I was listening for. You can never miss that board when you want to. When I go late to bed and creep upstairs I always tread on it, and then I hear Alexander turning in his bed. He wakes if a mouse cheeps. Tea's ready." She went to the door and whistled, and presently Alexander came through the rain. "Where've you been?" his father demanded. "In the barn." He looked at Edward Webb, who ate his bread-and-butter without so much as an upward glance. "I can't think what you want to go there for, when we've chairs to sit on." "Janet gave me a truss of hay, and it's softer than a bed." "Janet would do better to keep her hay. She'll be short of fodder before the winter's out." "That's what I told her." "These eggs are excellent," said Edward Webb. "You shall have a duck's egg for breakfast. My ducks----" "But I must be getting back to-night." "Indeed you mustn't. It's ten miles to the station, and it's raining, and you're not fit. We haven't a trap, either, but we could borrow a cart for you to-morrow." "You're very kind, but--but I feel I ought to go. Imposing on you like this!" "Not at all. We're glad to have you," said Rutherford. "And you can't get away if my wife means you to stop." "I was beginning to suspect that," said Webb, with a half-rueful lift of the brows. "And I do mean you to stop, so that's settled. Pass your father's cup, Alexander." The rain came down faster and stronger, invading the kitchen, and the mists, as they swept past the window, hid the larch-trees, but still through the noise of the falling water their louder murmuring was heard. The dog came in, shook himself and, whining, lay down near the door. The room was darkened, but the fire glowed the more brightly, and Clara put candles on the table. "Are you warm enough?" she asked of Edward. "Jim can't sit in a room with the door shut, but we can close the window." "No, no, please don't. We mustn't shut out these sounds." Across the candlelight Alexander sharply eyed the man who uttered his own thoughts. Books of poetry and a love of the wind--these were good things to have, but love of the wind was best, and a greater bond than a whole library. He liked this man, he decided, and he would be sorry when he went away.